Remember Me
by seriously-sarcasic
Summary: While doing research for a school project, Sam finds out her mother has been lying to her when she discovers a newspaper article about her mother's deceased half-sister that looks a lot like Ember McClain. Now Sam is on a mission to reunite her mother with the sister she never though she'd see again but what does Mr. Lancer have to do with all of this?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello people, this is a spin-off of my extended one-shot "Another Side of Me" however, you do not have to have read that one to read this one, it might just make this story a little easier to understand. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 1:

Sam POV-

Third day of school and Lancer has already assigned a project.

Ugh.

Seriously, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with any more of Mr. Lancer's projects after freshmen year, but, he decided to start teaching sophomores now, so, once again, he is my, Danny's, and Tucker's English teacher.

'_It could be worse,' _I reasoned with myself, '_we could be doing a project about _actual _English work.'_

Thankfully, instead of making us do a book report or an essay, Lancer assigned a "getting to know you" project (despite the fact that he had most of us as students already). He told to dig through all of our old family photos and create photo presentation about our family.

Being that, I am one of Lancer's favorite students (a fact that completely baffles me, given my opposition to authority), I know that I could just pick a few pictures and BS my way to an A, but, in all honesty, I don't actually mind the project (well, other than the fact that I am currently sitting in my hotter-than-the-surface-of-the-sun attic digging through dusty boxes).

My parents have always been rather tight-lipped about our family, my mother especially, which, of course, made me exceptionally curious when I was younger, but I was never able to dig anything up.

Now, at least I had an excuse.

So far, I had selected a few photos of my grandma, both my father's mom, who lives with us, and my mother's mom, who I remember was an alcoholic and died when I was five. I also got a few pictures of my dad's dad who only passed away four years ago. However, there were no pictures of my mom's dad. I never knew him, and my mom never talks about him. She never even told me how he died. Finally, I got a few photos of my great-grandpa who invested the twisty toothpick thing, a few of my parents, and a few of me when I was younger.

I chuckled, picking out one especially funny photo of myself.

In the photo, I looked to be about three or four and someone (*cough* my mother) had put me in a pink party dress complete with giant horrendous bows and flowers. Seriously, I looked like an old lady's throw pillow. Yuck. The funny part was that the four-year-old-me wasn't happy, at all. I had my arms crossed (to the best of my ability around all of the pink fluff) and I was glaring at the camera.

It's refreshing to know that, even back then, I was a rebellious pain in the ass. Some things never change.

I momentarily considered adding this photo to the stack I was using for the project, but, when I realized that I would probably never hear the end of it from Tucker, I filed it back in the box.

So far I had gone through three boxes and there wasn't anything that I hadn't seen before.

Three years ago, my parents had gone paperless, and now had every one of these pictures played on an endless reel on the living room TV. And because we never used this TV (this was the _formal _living room, after all) the only function that TV served was to roll these pictures. Therefore, we saw these pictures, _a lot._

Now, normally, I would be thrilled about my parents doing something that helps the environment. But, I'm also a really sentimental person, so I would have liked to have, at least some, of these pictures displayed around the house in decorative frames. But _apparently _it is tasteless for families to display picture frames around the house. Yet another thing my mom criticizes about Danny's mom.

Of course, I always thought it was sweet the way his mom had he and Jazz's baby pictures around the house, no matter how embarrassing Danny might find them.

Oh well, moving on.

I pulled another box from the stack and began to sift through it.

There was a picture of me and _ugh _Paulina.

Believe it or not (I still have a hard time believing it), we were actually friends (*shudder*) in kindergarten. That is, until we started first grade and she decided that I wasn't _cool _enough to be her friend. I also considered using this picture, just to embarrass Paulina. But, once again, I would never hear the end of it.

I was half-tempted to rip it in half. However, I inevitably put it back in the box. It might be funny at our class reunion or something, you know, when I'm a successful market research analyst and she's a prostitute.

Three boxes later, I still didn't really have any pictures that weren't all posed and stereotypical.

And, I _soo _didn't want my project to look exactly like everyone else's.

I was just about to give up and go ask my grandma if she had any pictures stuffed away in her room, when I accidentally kicked a stack of boxes behind me that had been labeled "Books." The heavy box toppled to the floor with a loud thud and several books spilled out onto the plywood floor.

I sighed, flipping over the box so that I could stack the books back in it.

The books were old and covered in dust. Most of them were hardback and several were textbooks. My guess would be that they were from when my mom was in high school and college. But one book stood out from the rest.

Because it wasn't a book.

At the very bottom of the box was a little, pink, 8" by 6" notebook that was only about half an inch thick. On the cover, "Pamela" was written in loose cursive and little hearts had been scribbled in red magic marker.

Suddenly the book felt very hot in my hand and I dropped it back into the box with the startling realization that that was my _mother's _diary. I stared at it in the box in stark contrast against the dull brown paper covered textbooks.

My fingers were itching to pick it up and read it but I felt guilty about reading my mom's private diary.

Although…if she hadn't been so unforthcoming about her childhood maybe I wouldn't have to snoop…

I bit my lip, weighing the morality of the situation against my curiosity. In one quick motion, before I could talk myself out of it, I picked up the diary and turned it over in my hands.

Out of the side of the pink-colored pages, something was sticking out.

'_At least I can say this part fell out,' _I thought to myself, justifying as I pulled the papers from the diary.

It looked like a newspaper article that had been yellowed over the years from the heat of the attic.

'Tragic House fire kills Amber McClain (18) and father Marcus McClain (40) on September 24th, 1984. It has been confirmed that the fire was started within the house and although both bodies were charred beyond recognition, several injuries on the teen girl are present. Police are considering ruling this a domestic violence gone wrong. A funeral is to be held for the teen girl on September 30th, and many of her classmates and teachers are scheduled to attend as well as other family members such as half-sister, Pamela (9) who will be speaking at her sister's funeral…'

That took me aback a little.

My mom had always assured me that she was an only child, just like my dad. Why now do I hear that she had a sister who was killed in a house fire?

Why wouldn't she have told me about that?

Next to the article was a grainy picture of who I assumed to be her sister. Her hair was pulled into a high pony tail and she didn't smile for the school photographer. I couldn't help but smile a little given that in a that a large majority of my school pictures I'm doing the exact same thing.

She looked familiar.

I spent several minutes staring at the fuzzy image of the dark-haired girl in a ripped Guns N Roses t-shirt.

'_Maybe she only looks familiar because she's my mom's sister,' _I considered, but, deep down, I knew that wasn't true. Judging by the lightness of her eyes against the black and white background, I guessed that the only traits my mom and her sister actually shared had been a pointed nose and aqua colored eyes. Which they must have gotten from their dad; the grandfather I had never met.

'_But how do I know her,' _I thought, '_I mean, it's not like I was even born yet, I mean, my mom was only nine, when she died…'_

That did it.

That clicked.

_When she died! _This girl, she's dead, that means the only way I could know her is if she was a ghost.

Amber McClain.

Ember McClain. Which, I guess made sense given the fact that she died in a fire.

I sat back for a minute, absorbing, and taking in the implications.

My mom has been lying to me for 15 years. But, more importantly, Ember McClain is my freaking aunt!

Ember is my aunt.

I have no idea how I am supposed to react to that knowledge. How do you react to the knowledge that you suddenly have an aunt, a ghost aunt, that you didn't know existed who, in one year, put Danny under a love spell, tried to control the world (multiple times), put all of our parents under a spell and used them to (once again) try and take over the world, and removed all the men from town.

Although, now that I know we're related, I'm actually a little impressed.

My mom and Ember are nothing alike, but, the more I thought about it, the more I can see the resemblance between Ember's personality and my own.

Still not sure what to think about that.

"Samantha," my mom called from downstairs making me jump.

'_Shit!' _I thought, rapidly putting the books back in the box.

"Are you up there?" she called again.

"Yeah, mom!" I replied as I heard her heels on the steps.

Impulsively, I decided not to put the diary back, instead, putting with all the other stuff I collected so that I could easily sneak it out.

I hefted the heavy book box back to the top of the pile and sat in front of the picture boxes like I had been there all along. I gently slipped the diary into one of the picture boxes and closed the lid, just as my mom's orange head bobbed up the last of the steps.

"Samantha," she blinked, "What are you doing up here?"

"Oh, I have a project for school where we're supposed to collect a bunch of pictures and do a presentation about our family," I replied smoothly.

"Oh," my mom said simply, "Are you finding anything?"

"I think so," I told her, picking up the photo box that was concealing the diary and the other photos I had gathered, "Is this all of the photos, or do you have some somewhere else?"

"Oh, no, that's all of them, you know that," she told me but I could easily read the look on her face. She was lying. And I'll bet money that her hidden stash of photos has something to do with the sister she never told me she had.

"I know, I just thought you might have moved some of them downstairs," I lied.

"Oh," she nodded; looking behind me—not subtly at all—to make sure her secret box had not been disturbed.

"Are you okay, mom?" I asked her as a way of throwing any suspicion off of me.

"What? Oh, fine, honey. I'm just fine," she snapped out of her trance, "Is that the only box you need?" she asked.

"Yep. I've got all I need, right here."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Sam POV-

I easily slipped into my room, giving my mom the impression that I was doing homework.

Thankfully, she left me alone.

Which gave me plenty of time to read the rest of her diary.

I no longer felt guilty about it, because now, I was trying to find out what else my mom had lied to me about. From what I could tell, she got the diary on her eighth birthday. The handwriting wasn't perfect and neither was the spelling, but I could make out the general gist of the entries.

The first one was on her birthday.

'Dear Diary,

Today was my 8th birthday and Amber got me this diary, some Juicy Fruit gum and a butterfly hair clip. Mommy was busy so Amber and I had cupcakes at the pier. But that is about all that happened today.

Love,

Pammie.'

_Pammie? _Seriously? I have never heard my mom—or my dad for that matter—refer to her as "Pammie" in my entire life. I wonder if that was something Ember (Amber?) called her.

Of course, it really didn't surprise me that my grandma had been busy for her birthday. My only memories of my grandma consist of a bad red dye-job to cover up the grays, creepy long fingernails, and the smell of her favorite brandy which she almost always had with her in her crystal flask that looked almost like a decorative perfume bottle.

Although, it did surprise me a little how much Ember cared for my mom. I mean, in the few encounters I've ever had with her didn't really give off the "loving sister" vibe more like the "rule the world" vibe.

I flipped the page. My mom hadn't written something on every page, in fact, most pages had simple drawings on them or sometimes nothing at all.

The next entry was a year later, at her ninth birthday.

'Dear Diary,

It was my 9th birthday today and Amber and I went to this place called Pizza and Shakes and we got this big pizza just for us and she got me a big chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry. It was really good. She gave me a pretty necklace for my present and we went for a long drive. She said that in a year, I won't have to worry about mommy or daddy anymore because she was going to adopt me. She said she is gonna get famous and we're gonna go around the country and stay up late and drink milkshakes every night. And she said that she'll pay for me to go to any college ever! But college is a long way from now. I think that will be great.

Love,

Pammie.'

Ember had planned to adopt my mom and pay for her college education? It's not exactly something that I would have expected from her.

The next entry made me laugh.

'Dear Diary,

Today Amber and I were fighting because I told her that she should wear pink bows and dresses and she said pink is an ugly color. But pink is my favorite color! And I called her a poo poo head and she told me that I'm gonna have a daughter like her who doesn't like pink and bows and who only wears black. And I told her no because I don't even have a daughter yet and I think she'll like pink.

Love,

Pammie."

Well, I must say, Ember had guessed that pretty accurately. I always wondered where I got the rebellious pink-hating traits from. I guess that mystery is solved.

Then the diary entries took a turn for the worse.

'Dear Diary,

It's Pammie again. Today I'm staying at my dad's house with Amber. The only reason I like staying with daddy is because I get to spend time with Amber, because after daddy comes home, it's not fun. Tonight he came home early and Amber told me to hide like she always does. So I hid in the closet, but I could still see through the lines in the closet door. He came up into the room that Amber and me share, and he started calling her a lot of things I don't understand, but Amber says they're not nice. Then he hit her and pushed her on the ground. He always does that. It scares me because I don't know why daddy hits her. Amber tells me that I have to hide so that he doesn't hit me too. I don't know why daddy would want to hit me. Tonight after he pushed Amber on the ground he started taking off her clothes. I don't know why he was doing that but I know she didn't like it. I wanted to help her but Amber had pushed the chair against the door so I couldn't get out. I sat down and didn't watch what was going on. When it was over, daddy left to sleep, and Amber got dressed and let me out of the closet. She told me everything was okay, but I don't think it was okay. She was crying and she had a black eye and she was bleeding on her arm. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong she just said she would never let that happen to me.

Love,

Pammie.'

I was stunned to say the least.

I had not known that my mom had had an abusive father. And I never would have guessed that Ember had been savagely beaten and raped by my grandfather. I can't believe she had gone to such great lengths to protect my mom.

Although, unfortunately, I _could_ believe that my grandma had let it happen. She had never been a great mother or grandmother (although, because of her, I learned the proper way to make a cocktail at the age of three).

It was all kind of surreal to me, like it was someone else's family, not my own.

I guess I understood why my mom hadn't told me, this was hard stuff to swallow. I found it amazing that my mom had actually been able to handle it when she was younger. Perhaps she was stronger than I gave her credit for.

The again, my mom didn't even have to live with the abuse all the time or perhaps at all, given the fact that Ember was there to block her, but I can't imagine what Ember had to go through on a regular basis. My life may not be perfect, and my parents may not be very understanding, but, comparatively, my life is like a walk in the park.

I bit my lip, wondering what else was in this book as I flipped through the pages.

There were several more accounts of abuse, but it was the same way, my mom never had to take the abuse. That is, except from her mom, who would occasionally smack her around when she was drunk. But she never had to take it from their dad. Ember always took the abuse in her place.

'Dear Diary,

Today, Amber died. I heard about it on the news. Daddy killed her. I always told her that he would but she wouldn't listen to me, she said she was okay. He burned her in a fire, but he also killed himself. I'm glad that he's dead. I'm almost glad that Amber is dead too just so she doesn't have to get beaten all the time. But she shouldn't have died. She was such a good sister. And for a few weeks she had been happier and I thought things were getting better but I guess they weren't. I guess she can't adopt me now so I have to stay and live with mommy. I miss Amber soo much.

Love,

Pamela."

The change in the way she signed her name did not escape my notice, and it only further indicated to me that Pammie had been Ember's nickname for my mom. After she died, my mom no longer felt she could call herself that.

'Dear Diary,

Today I talked at Amber's funeral and I promise I could almost feel her there. I hope she was there so that she could hear me say I love her. It was only me and a man who talked I think he must have been her boyfriend because he said he loved her too. Mama says that it's good that she's gone because Mama never liked Amber, she said she was bad. But Mama doesn't know that Amber protected me all the time from daddy. I don't think it's good that Amber is gone. I miss her and I want her to come back but I know that that can't happen cuz she's a ghost or an angel now, but I hope I can see her when I die.

Love,

Pamela.'

That was the last entry in the diary but sandwiched between the very last pages was a folded Polaroid picture. Carefully, I pulled it out and looked at it. It had become slightly distorted with age and the edges were ripped and there was a white crease where the picture had been folded, but I could clearly make out my mom and Ember.

In this picture it was easy to make out the similarities between them, which, as I had guessed, was only their nose and eyes. Ember had had dark brown hair that I'm assuming she had gotten from their dad or from Ember's mom. At any rate, my mom, with her bright orange hair, did not possess the trait.

On the back of the picture Ember had written in a neat, slanted, handwriting, "Love ya, sis. Love, Amber," along with the date July, 16th, 1984, a little over two months before she was killed.

Suddenly my phone, which had been resting on the side of my desk, buzzed against the wood. It was Danny, sending me a text message.

'Sam where r u? we're at the nasty burger.'

I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to meet Tucker and Danny at Nasty Burger.

I looked at the diary, news article, and picture.

If anyone is going to be able to help me figure this out, it's Danny.

So, I put the news article and picture back in the diary and shoved the diary in my purse before rushing downstairs to go meet my best friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Danny POV-

"Sam you okay?" I asked as she raced into the Nasty Burger. It is not like her to be late or to forget about things and she looks…frazzled to say the least.

She slid into the booth and took a deep breath, resting her head on her hands like she would normally do when she gets a migraine.

"…No," she decided finally, "Not really."

"What's wrong?" I asked. In all the years I have known Sam, very rarely have I seen her like this, in fact, I'm not sure I've _ever _seen her like this.

After another deep breath, she put her black, studded, purse on the table. She also rarely carries a purse, which was yet another thing that seemed off.

"Well," she told us, rifling through the contents of her purse, "I was working on the project and I found out that my mom has been lying to me for fifteen years."

She pulled out a small pink book out of her purse and slid it across the table to us, pulling a piece of paper out of the side.

"Go ahead, read it out loud," she said, leaning back against the booth.

"'Tragic House fire kills Amber McClain and father Marcus McClain on September 24th, 1984. It has been confirmed that the fire was started within the house and although both bodies were charred beyond recognition, several injuries on the teen girl are present. Police are considering ruling this a domestic violence gone wrong. A funeral is to be held for the teen girl on September 30th, and many of her classmates and teachers are scheduled to attend as well as other family members such as half-sister, Pamela (9) who will be speaking at her sister's funeral'…Sam what does this mean?" I wondered.

"It means, that my mom, who always claimed to be an only child, actually had a sister who died in a house fire," Sam told me.

"And?" Tucker arched an eyebrow.

"And…look at this," she pulled out a photograph out of the diary, "Look familiar?"

"Yeah…who is it?" Tucker wondered.

I studied the photograph and then looked at the news article again. Amber McClain.

Oh. My. God.

"Ember?!" I exclaimed, "Ember is your mom's sister?!"

Sam pursed her lips and nodded, "It gets worse. Here, read this."

She handed me the diary and I flipped through the pages with Tucker leaning over my shoulder, reading along with me.

"Wow," I said when I read the last entry and closed the book, sliding it back to Sam.

"Yeah, it almost makes you feel bad for her," Tucker added. He was right, not matter how much trouble Ember has caused us, it almost makes sense now, knowing how screwed up her life was. And I did almost feel bad for her…almost.

"It makes sense…well it makes sense that you are the way you are," Tucker said gesturing to Sam.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Sam glared at him.

"He means, it makes sense why you are nothing like your mom-because you are more like Ember," I elaborated, "It also explains why your mom hates me and my family so much."

"What?" Sam questioned, not understanding what I meant by that.

"My parents are ghost hunters and your mom is probably afraid of death and ghosts in general after the way Ember died," I explained. Sam seemed to realize that that actually made some sense.

"Who do you think her boyfriend was? Do you think he still lives in Amity?" Tucker wondered. Trying to take some of my fries (having already eaten all of his) before I smacked his hand away.

"I don't know. But…we could find out," Sam smirked. The ulterior motives have been revealed. She wants to know what happened, and she knows her mom won't say anything about it, so she has taken this on as her own investigation project.

"Ah, I see. You didn't bring this here to share with us, you want us to help you solve the mystery," I guessed.

"You catch on quick," she grinned, picking up one of my fries. I didn't stop her.

"Okay…what exactly did you have in mind?" I wondered.

"Well, my mom won't tell me anything, I already know that. But there is someone who would have an insight…" Sam looked to me. I know that look.

"Ember?" I guessed with a sigh.

"Yep," she grinned, stealing a few more of my fries.

"I just don't understand why you are so interested in this, I mean, doesn't this tell you everything you need to know?" I gestured to the diary.

"If it was you, wouldn't you want to know?" Sam looked at me, "It's a whole part of my family that I never got to know, and something tells me that Ember doesn't even know about me or about how my mom grew up, don't you think she should know that all her efforts to protect my mom weren't in vain?"

She was right, as usual. And, as usual, I knew there was no way that I would be getting around this argument.

"Fine, you're right," I agreed finally.

"I know," Sam smirked, stealing yet another fry.

"Would you stop stealing my fries!" I exclaimed, although I'm pretty sure both of us knew that I was not being entirely serious. To make the point, she took another fry and dunked it in the ketchup that I had squirted on the paper wrapping from my hamburger.

"So…do you mean like, now?" Tucker wondered.

Sam and I shared a look.

"Yep, let's go," I agreed, all of my fries were gone anyway, "We just need to make sure my parents are out of the house so that we can use the Specter Speeder."

"Actually, I've got to go home, so if you two just want to fly there…" Tucker suggested, sliding out of the booth.

I looked at Sam who merely shrugged in response.

"Okay, see you later Tuck," I called as Sam and I got up to leave.

As it turned out, my parents were not around, so we went down to the lab without them questioning anything.

Sam was thoughtfully quiet.

"Sam, are you okay?" I asked again.

"Yeah," she said finally with a smile, "Is it funny that I'm actually a little nervous? I have no idea how she is going to react."

I didn't know how Ember would react either, I mean, how do you react to the fact that your younger sister is now grown up with a daughter of her own, who is actually a niece that you never knew existed, one who actually has helped take down Ember on multiple occasions.

"Don't worry," I assured her, although I had been having the same reservations, "I'm sure it will be fine."

And with that, I transformed and she grabbed my hand and we both flew into the ghost zone to seek out Ember.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Sam POV-

Yeah, I actually was really nervous.

I had no idea what she was going to react, I had no idea what she was going to tell me, heck, she may not even believe me. _I_ barely believe me.

With the ghost zone constantly changing, it took us a while before we finally found the right door.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Danny asked me, eyeing me suspiciously as we floated outside of her door which was purple and embezzled with a blue guitar and black music notes.

I looked between him and the door for a few seconds, before nodding.

Danny sighed, like he had been hoping I would say "no" but actually knew that I would say "yes," in fact, I'm nearly positive that was _exactly _what he was thinking.

I took a deep breath and rapped my knuckles on the door which was more solid than I would have expected in the ghost zone.

"What the hell?" I heard from inside. Ember's voice, "Skulker, I swear, if this is you I'm gonna—"

She opened the door and immediately shut up.

"Oh," was all she said before casting a suspicious look at us, "What are you doing here?" she asked Danny.

He held up his hands in innocence, "Hey, I'm just the chauffeur; she's the one who wants to talk to you."

Ember squinted at him suspiciously before turning her attention to me.

"What?" was all she said, sounding irritated. Yes, I'm afraid we are most definitely related.

"I need to talk to you," I replied in the same stubborn manner, crossing my arms. We held a glare between the two of us for a few seconds before she finally gave me an exaggerated sigh and eye roll.

"Fine, come in," she motioned for us to enter her lair.

It really wasn't what I would have expected from her lair. It looked to be stationed somewhere in the woods, next to a lake except for the fact that the outside sky was green and the trees were black and purple. But the water was a pretty teal color that reflected the sunlight. I was surprised to actually see the sunshine because that is not something that is common in the ghost zone. At the edge of the lake, a small dock jutted out.

The lair itself looked like 1980 had thrown up and then colored itself to match the ghost zone. The black couches were pleather and extremely overstuffed with a sleek glass coffee table. On the back wall were some abstract geometric pattern that had been colored in black and teal and neon green and stacked with thousands of vinyl records and cassette tapes. In the corner was the corresponding record player and Walkman. There was an old TV set in the opposite corner which was playing, surprisingly enough, a modern MTV show: 16 and pregnant and along another wall was a black-colored brick fireplace. The walls themselves were a royal purple color. I also noticed that on either side of the windows, thick back curtains, deigned to block out the sunlight, were hung. I smiled to myself a little; I had similar curtains in my own room.

"Okay, what is it?" Ember demanded, sitting down on one of the couches.

"I found something while sifting through my mom's stuff that I thought might interest you," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"Yeah? What is it?" Ember asked me suspiciously arching an eyebrow. The flames of her hair lightly flicking in irritation.

I pulled out the photo from my mom's diary and handed it to Ember.

She carefully unfolded it and stared at it for a few seconds.

"Where the hell did you get this?!" she growled her eyes glowing a little brighter and the flames of her hair beginning to stand up a little as her rage began to build up. Danny tensed readying himself for a fight.

"From my mom's old diary," I handed her the diary, which she immediately recognized, given the fact that she had been the one to give it to my mom.

Ember was quiet, absorbing.

"Oh…my God," she said finally, looking up to study me. After a few minutes she gave a small, sad, chuckle.

"I always told her she would get a kid like me," she said finally.

I couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah, she hates it. She's always trying to get me to wear pink dresses and shit."

To my surprise, Ember smiled.

"That sounds like Pammie," Ember stood up and walked over to the windows, I wondered what she was thinking about, "Does she ever talk about me?"

I shook my head, "She always told me she was an only child. The only reason I found out was because I was sifting through boxes to do a project for Lancer's class."

Her eyebrows shot up at Lancer's name, but she quickly composed herself.

Hmmm…

"She told you she was an only child?" Ember almost sounded hurt. I nodded slowly.

"I think it's because she was upset. That's the only explanation I could come up with," I replied, "She never told me anything about her childhood."

"Well it wasn't exactly anything to be proud of," Ember spat. She wasn't mad at me, I could tell, she was angry about her childhood and the way she and my mother had to grow up. "Between her bitchy alcoholic mom and our alcoholic, drug addict, abusive father, I'm not sure I would have gone into the details of my childhood either. You see this," he held out the underside of her arms for us to see. They were covered in many abnormally shaped marks and scars that glowed faintly, "Even after I died they never went away."

Ember sat back on the couch thoughtfully. It didn't take me long to realize that all of those scars were from her father.

As I looked closely at Ember, I could see that another scar glowed on her forehead, but it was hard to see with the natural ghost glow surrounding her.

"What's she like now?" she wondered, looking at me. I knew she was asking about my mom.

"Here," I handed Ember my cellphone, "I've got some pictures."

Silently, she swiped through the photos.

"Wow, you have a big house, are you guys rich?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, my great grandpa invented the twisty cellophane toothpick thing."

"What's your dad like?" Ember asked, handing me my cellphone, but I could tell she was trying to determine whether my mom and I were being abused or not.

"He's a good father, always gives my mom everything she wants. He's never laid a hand against her, or me," I assured her. At this, Ember sighed in relief.

"Did she go to college?" Ember asked.

I nodded, "That's where she met my dad. From what she told me, her entire college fund was paid for by an anonymous donor."

Ember gasped quietly to herself, and muttered what sounded like, "Rob," but I couldn't be entirely sure.

"That's all I ever wanted for her. I wish I could see her again…" Ember trailed off, looking down sadly.

I bit my lip. "You might be able to…but I can't guarantee she won't flip out…ghosts aren't really something she's comfortable with…" Danny's eyes widened and he gave me a "what the hell are you doing?!" look.

"You really think I could?" Ember arched an eyebrow, "I mean, what will she think of me now, I'm a ghost. Not only that, but I'm a ghost who has tried to take over the city multiple times. She was on that ship right? When Youngblood and I were brainwashing all the adults?"

I nodded.

Ember sighed sadly, "I didn't even recognize her. I mean, I know I had been gone for twenty nine years, but…I should have known my sister," she clenched her fists, I could tell she was angry with herself.

"To be fair, she didn't exactly recognize you either," Danny pointed out, and I elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Ember glared at him.

"That's different. She _shouldn't _have recognized me! She thought I was dead! And it's not like I was exactly acting like the older sister I had been when we were growing up," Ember leaned against the back of the couch.

She bit her lip for a minute, like she was debating whether or not to ask a question.

"So um…you mentioned Lancer…he's still teaching?" she wondered. Had she been Lancer's student?

"Yeah, sophomore English," I replied, studying her face. There was something she wasn't telling me.

"Back in 1984, he had been a teacher's assistant…I had been one of his students," she told us.

Well it was certainly apparent to me now where I had gotten my excellent lying skills. I could tell she wasn't exactly lying, but she wasn't telling us the whole truth either, which, is exactly what makes someone a good liar; when fifty percent of your lies are truth.

"Um…do you know if he ever got married?" Ember wondered.

Strange question…

"Yeah, I think so. I think he has a daughter too," Danny told her.

Ember nodded.

"If…if I'm going to be reunited with Pammie, do you think…maybe I could see R—I mean Lancer? I have something I need to ask him regarding my test scores," Ember half-lied again.

I looked at Danny who simply shrugged as if to say "you know I have no control over what you do," which is true.

"Sure," I agreed, "Why don't you give us a few days to set things up?"

"Tell Lancer to meet you at Pizza and Shakes. He'll know where it is, assuming it's still there," Ember told us.

"It is, we went there last week," I motioned to Danny. We had, actually. He told me that while doing patrols, he flew a little outside of the city and found this restaurant; the three of us went there the next day.

"Really?" Ember smirked, looking between Danny and me for a long minute. She chuckled, shaking her head.

"What?" I asked her, wondering what was so funny.

"Oh nothing…history just has a way of repeating itself, I think. So, when are you two going to get together?" she asked us suddenly causing both Danny and I to blush.

"What?" I exclaimed in surprise.

Ember rolled her eyes, "Come on. The entire ghost zone has a bet going about when you two will get together. You're a good match; the rebellious girl with the awkward dork," she smirked.

"Hey!" Danny exclaimed, but Ember ignored him.

"For some reason, it works. Better than it should. I should know, it would have worked for me," she sighed longingly. I wondered what she meant by that, or more appropriately, _who _she meant by that.

Once I had gathered up my mom's diary (I left the photo with Ember because I figured she probably needed it more than I did) Danny and I left Ember's lair, flying back to Danny's house.

"So now, we're going to somehow, set up a meeting between your mom, who can't stand ghosts, and Ember, while still trying to maintain that you know nothing about how Ember is actually her sister. _And _we have to organize a meeting between Ember and Lancer for some bizarre reason. Sam, I'm sorry, but are you insane?" Danny asked me.

"Maybe," I admitted. It was a crazy undertaking. "It was weird though…how she wanted to see Lancer."

"She said it was about her test scores," Danny shrugged, "Maybe she needs to know what she got on that test before she can…you know…move on; unfinished business or something like that."

"Yeah…I guess so. But I still get the feeling that there is something she's not telling us," I said.

"Well, yeah. She's a ghost. There's probably a lot she isn't telling us," Danny scoffed, "I know she's technically your aunt, Sam, but I wouldn't trust her too much if I were you."

I knew he was right, but it was still a little disheartening.

Danny walked me home and I waved goodbye as I opened my front door.

I spotted my mom seated in front of her crafting table.

Operation Ember Remember was officially underway.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Sam POV-

Operation Ember Remember was officially underway.

"Hey Mom," I greeted her as I walked in the front door, closing it behind me.

She barely looked up from her craft table to acknowledge me.

"Hello sweetheart," she returned before going back to her crafting, expecting me to pass right by her and go upstairs the way I usually would.

At least, the way I usually would if I weren't on a mission.

"What are you working on?" I asked walking up next to her and taking the open stool at the craft table.

My mom seemed pleasantly surprised that I was taking a (sudden) interest in her crafting, (thankfully she didn't find this sudden interest to be suspicious at all).

"Oh, nothing much, just some new centerpieces for the tables at a charity banquet your father and I will be attending this weekend," she told me, "Would you care to join me?"

"Sure," I shrugged, and took the different colored flowers she had handed me and began organizing them in one of the empty vases.

I worked methodically, all the while brainstorming a plan to get my mom to open up about her past. If I came right out and told her, she would be accusatory, and would, more than likely, shut down the conversation and possibly not talk to me for a week. So that plan was out.

And if I simply asked her about her past she would feed me the same lies she has been telling all these years or she would become suspicious of my intentions. So that plan was also out.

What I needed to do was set up a place where Ember could meet my mom without my mom being suspicious of my intentions. And something told me that that place wouldn't be our house.

I nearly sighed out loud, I had a place we could go.

"So mom," I said casually, "Can I to talk to you about something."

"Hmm?" She wondered looking at me.

"Um…my teacher, Mr. Lancer wanted to talk to you about me," I lied, feigning sheepishness.

"Samantha Manson?" my mom set her hands on the table, "Are you doing badly in school? Is it because of that Fenton boy?"

"Not that I know of!" I exclaimed, "For all I know I could have received an academic achievement award, but he was very specific that only you and I meet him at Pizza and Shakes this Saturday at noon."

"That is rather specific," my mom pursed her lips, "And you're sure your father can't come?"

I shrugged, "That's what he said."

"The banquet is Saturday night…you said we would be meeting him at noon?" I nodded, "How long is this expected to last?"

"I don't know, an hour, maybe two tops," I lied, not sure how long my mom would want to talk to her long-lost sister, or even if she would want to talk to her at all after she had discovered what I was planning.

"I suppose that should give me enough time to get ready for the banquet," she bit her lip and I could tell she was evaluating how much time it would take her to have the conference, get home, get ready, and leave for the banquet in order to still be there on time, "Oh, alright then," my mom finally agreed, "Why don't you go fill it in on my calendar. But if your grades are suffering young lady, your father will be hearing about this and there will be consequences!"

"I know mom," I told her simply, finishing up my centerpiece with a tasteful blue satin ribbon tied across the center of the vase. My mom regarded my finished vase with a small smile of intrigue, before looking at her own which was far more over-the-top than mine, and began removing some of her own flowers. I smiled to myself; I must have done something right. Then I stood up and went to go fill in the date on her calendar.

On the bright side, my mom would not actually have to meet with Lancer, because the time I would be telling him to meet me and my mom at Pizza and Shakes would be several hours later. Instead, both would be meeting with Ember and (hopefully) in the excitement of seeing her again the "parent teacher conferences" would be forgotten on both ends. And, thankfully, in a public place, my mom couldn't freak out too badly.

Which meant that tomorrow, I would have to tell Lancer to meet me and my mom at Pizza and Shakes at 4:00 (only because I wanted to make absolutely positive that my mom and Ember wouldn't run over and Lancer wouldn't come early. And with her banquet on the line, there was no way my mother would stay past 3:30).

And, at some point, I would have to tell Ember that she would have to be at Pizza and Shakes all day on Saturday in order to meet with my mom and Lancer. This would mean that I would have to get back into the ghost zone without getting caught by my mom, Lancer, or Danny's parents.

That might not sound like a lot, but I was already feeling the strain of my self-imposed deadline, three days from now (two if you don't count today or Saturday).

I wrote down the "parent teacher conference" on the calendar in my small, neat handwriting, which contrasted severely with my mom's elegant, looped, cursive, scrawl. However, I realized that my handwriting was bizarrely similar to Ember's.

I wonder if that's why my mom was always trying to teach me calligraphy and get me to write in cursive; so that my penmanship would not remind her of her sister's.

It's actually amazing how much more of my life can be explained, just by finding out a little about my mom's past.

I clicked the—$600, solid gold, pen (because that's the kind of stuff rich people own) –and recalled the tip back inside.

One down one to go.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Sam POV-

The next morning, as I got ready for school, I prepared myself to talk to Mr. Lancer.

I still found it beyond bizarre that she had wanted to see Lancer. What test could possibly be that important?

I wish Ember had been a little more forthcoming about the details that involved Lancer. Perhaps that's one thing that she and my mom have in common.

I intended to leave for school a little earlier, but I had overslept a little and now I was running late. I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the front door, making my way down the street at a rapid pace.

"Running late," I heard a smug voice above me.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, Danny, I am running late," I gave a pointed look at my best friend, "I was hoping to talk to Lancer before school started."

"Would you like a ride," he smirked.

I didn't answer, I simply crossed my arms, looking up at him with an annoyed glare that clearly said '_What do you think?'_.

Danny chuckled, landing next to my and holding out his hand. I took his hand and he lifted me off the ground.

"So did you talk to your mom?" he asked.

"Yep," I replied, "Got her to agree to meet at Pizza and Shakes on Saturday for a 'parent-teacher conference' with Mr. Lancer, of course, we won't actually _be _meeting Mr. Lancer."

"And then you're going to have Lancer meet Ember later that day?" Danny guessed.

"Yep, except he will be thinking that he will be meeting me and my mom," I told him.

"Oh, yeah, that can't _possibly _go wrong," Danny remarked sarcastically.

"It won't because _I'm _the one planning it. Plus, my mom has a banquet that night so she won't be staying long enough to run into Lancer," I rationalized.

"What happens if your mom, you know freaks out?" Danny wondered.

"I've thought about that too, it's a public place, and you know how my mom is with keeping up appearances," I told him.

"Yes bu I also know how she is around ghosts," he muttered, "How do you plan to…introduce them, especially considering that your mom might not even recognize her at first?" Danny asked.

"I'm still working on that part," I told him as we touched down behind the school so that he could transform back into his human form.

I glanced at the time on my cellphone. Thanks to Danny, I still had time to get to Lancer's class before everyone else filed in.

"Thanks Danny," I called as I ran to Lancer's class.

When I arrived in his class, he was grading papers. He looked up and gave me a slight smile.

"Hello, Ms. Manson, what brings you here so early?" he asked me.

"Mr. Lancer, can I talk to you?" I asked him.

"Of course," he agreed, pushing his stack of graded papers to the side.

"Um…my mom wanted to know if you could meet with us this weekend to talk," I asked him.

"This weekend?" he asked, perplexed, "She could always come after school—"

I shook my head.

"I know, but she says she cannot risk being in an environment with germs or…something like that. But she was very specific that she wants you to meet us at Pizza and Shakes at 4:00 on Saturday," I told him.

A strange look crossed over his face.

"I haven't been there in a long time," he said with a smile, "Is there any particular reason why your mom chose that place to meet?"

I shrugged, "It's near a charity banquet that she's having later that evening," I lied easily (considering I had already practiced that lie to myself about a dozen times).

"Alright," Lancer finally agreed, he took out a pen and made a note in a small leather-bond planner, "4:00 on Saturday at Pizza and Shakes."

"So how is your project coming along?" he asked me after a minute.

"Good," I replied, standing up.

"See you in sixth period Ms. Manson," he replied, once again returning to his grading.

I was still slightly early to my first period class, but I couldn't stop thinking that it was weird the way Lancer had reacted to the fact that we were going to Pizza and Shakes. Ember had told me that he would know where the restaurant was, the question was, why?

"Hey, how'd it go?" Danny asked, sliding into the desk next to me, early for a change.

"Good, weird, but good. I got him to agree to meet me at Pizza and Shakes," I told him in a low voice.

"Why weird?" Danny asked.

I shook my head, "I can't really explain it. Just, the way he reacted when I brought up the restaurant, almost…almost like he was afraid to go there. Is that crazy?"

"Sam, everything about this situation is crazy. Who knows, maybe he saw Ember there once before she died, maybe that's why she said he'd know where it is. And maybe he hasn't gone there since she died or something," he suggested.

"I guess…" I suppose that isn't outside the realm of possibilities. Perhaps, he had seen her there the day she died. Maybe like some kind of survivor's guilt or something for being the last person (besides her father) to see her alive.

I guess it made as much sense as anything else in my life.

As the rest of the class filed in at the bell, our teacher began her lecture.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"So…now what?" Danny asked at lunch.

"Sometime between now and Saturday, we're going to have to tell Ember to be at Pizza and Shakes at noon," I told him.

Suddenly, his ghost sense went off.

"Or," he sighed, "We might be able to tell her right now."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Sam POV-

When Saturday rolled around, I was more high strung than my mother before a party. My mother, on the other hand, was completely calm—having no idea what was going to happen today—her only worry was whether or not she would make it to the banquet on time.

I was up at the crack of dawn because I hadn't slept an ounce the night before and my mom was very surprised to see me awake.

"You must be nervous about what Mr. Lancer has to talk with me about if you're up so early," she remarked with a small smile.

"No, not really," I replied, which was true. I wasn't nervous about what _Mr. Lancer _would say to _her._

"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully, going about her morning business.

At about 11:00 we left for the restaurant—considering Pizza and Shakes is somewhat out of town—and we arrived at 11:45. Thankfully, Ember hadn't arrived yet.

We sat down at a table in the back and I ordered a milkshake, much to my mother's dismay.

When I heard the bell ring I already knew who it would be—no one had walked in since my mother and I had sat down. That, coupled with the fact that a few people gasped in surprise, I knew it had to be Ember.

She strolled over to our table and my mother wasn't even paying attention, she was too busy emailing people about the banquet tonight. But I didn't miss the look that crossed over Ember's face as she looked at my mom—she had missed her.

She stopped in front of our table, her thick-heeled shoes making more noise than you would expect a ghost to make.

"Hi, Pammie," she said finally.

My mom froze, not looking up. I knew she must have recognized Ember's voice.

Finally her gaze travelled upwards and met Ember's.

"Sorry I was gone so long," Ember added, "I had to make sure that Dad got what was coming to him."

"Amber?" she asked finally, "You-you-you're…"

"Dead? Yeah, that part I can't change," Ember nodded sadly, "But I'm glad that Sam was able to find me."

My mom looked at me.

Uh oh.

I grinned sheepishly at her.

She opened her mouth like she wanted to yell at me.

"Well! I'll leave you guys to catch up, Danny should be picking me up right now," I scooted myself out of the booth before my mom could say anything.

Thankfully, Danny was right outside, just like we'd planned. And we weren't planning on leaving. We floated invisibly back into the restaurant and sat in the booth behind them, I had a feeling Ember knew we were there—given the pointed glare she directed at us—but she didn't say anything about it.

"Don't be too mad at Sam," Ember told my mom, "Her heart was in the right place."

My mom shook her head, her hands were shaking.

"I can't do this!" she exclaimed, trying to stand up. Ember grabbed her arm, my mom seemed surprised that her hand didn't go right through her.

"Pam, I know none of this is ideal, and I'm sorry it has to be this way. But I want to make up for that—" Ember started.

"Not _ideal?! _Amber you're a ghost! I saw you dead and buried! I spoke at your funeral! And now you show up here and this is…this is…this is insane!" my mom exclaimed.

"I know," Ember sighed, "I really liked your speech at my funeral, by the way."

"This is—this is just too much!" my mom cried in frustration. And she tried to get up again, "Listen, Samantha shouldn't have gotten involved. I'm sorry Amber—I just can't do this!"

"Why?" Ember asked, angry now, "The Pammie I knew would never give up like this."

"The Pammie you knew died the day you did," my mom answered coolly.

"Pammie, please don't say that. Just listen to me, please," she motioned for my mom to sit down and reluctantly she slid back into the booth.

"Pammie, I am so sorry," Ember apologized.

"You're sorry?" my mom asked, "Amber, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"No, I do. I'm so sorry I left you all alone with your mom. I didn't get to see you grow up, or go to college, or get married. I am so sorry that I wasn't there for you," she took my mother's hands, "And I know I'm dead and that everything has changed from how it used to be. But you're still my sister, and I love you."

A tear rolled down my mom's cheek and she quickly swiped it away before it could smear her makeup.

"I love you too, Amber," my mom replied and hugged her.

Ember hugged her back.

"I'm sorry too," my mom said.

"What? Why?" Ember asked, confused.

"I'm sorry that you went through all that abuse. I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help," she looked down.

"Pam, it was never your job to protect me, it was my job to protect you. And I'd do it again if I had to," Ember replied.

"But it shouldn't have had to be your job! I should have made my mom let you move into our home with us so you wouldn't have to live with him!" my mom exclaimed.

"Pammie, you know she never would have agreed. She hated me," Ember argued.

"She didn't hate you…" my mom bit her lip.

"Pammie, she called me a 'worthless cock sucking bitch' that one time I had Christmas with you," Ember arched an eyebrow.

To my surprise, my mother giggled. "Okay, she hated you," she agreed. And just like that the tension between them seemed to be broken.

"So, tell me everything that's happened since I died," Ember grinned talking to my mom like an old friend who had moved away.

"What do you want to know?" my mom laughed smiling at her sister.

I poked Danny's arm, a signal that it was time for us to go, and we flew out of the restaurant and left my mom alone to catch up with her sister.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Ember POV-

It was so nice to talk with Pammie again. It was almost like I had never left the way we easily conversed. I mean, we started off a little rocky, but after that, we talked for hours.

I had missed her so much.

And as we talked about her husband and her house and her daughter, it just made me wish I had been here to see it all happen. But I was happy for her, she was doing alright. And she was happy, which all I ever wanted for her.

I hadn't even realized how late it had gotten until Rob walked in the restaurant.

"Oh!" Pammie exclaimed when she noticed him, "That's Sam's teacher."

"I know," I replied, "Actually, I was the one that had Sam bring him here."

"Oh…was he teaching when you were in school?" she asked, confused.

"Kinda. Um…remember the other person that spoke at my funeral?" I asked her.

"Yeah your boyfriend—Oh!" she covered her mouth to keep from laughing, "You were dating your _teacher?_" she whispered.

"Yeah…" I grinned sheepishly.

Finally Rob noticed us. At first I think he only noticed Pamela, but as he walked closer he saw me and stopped dead (no pun intended) in his tracks.

"Amber?" he asked.

I stood up and smiled at him, "Hey, Rob."

When he smiled, I ran forward and embraced him and he hugged me back. He still smelled the same and I had forgotten how much I had missed his smell.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me, incredulously.

"Who do you think set this entire thing up?" I grinned, pulling back to get a good look at him.

"You got old, Rob," I smirked, "And fat. And what happened to all your hair?" I asked rubbing his bald head.

He scoffed, "Well we can't all be eighteen forever. You look good."

"Thanks," I laughed, "Come on, we've got some catching up to do. I believe you know my sister."

"Of course, nice to see you, Mrs. Manson," he nodded politely and I rolled my eyes.

"I think you can skip the formalities considering you paid for her college education," I remarked, then I added in a slightly lower voice, "thanks for that."

"_You're _the anonymous donor that paid my tuition?!" my sister gawked at him.

"I know it's what you wanted," he said to me. And he was absolutely right. If he hadn't done that she probably wouldn't have met her husband and might not have the wonderful life she has today, and for giving her that opportunity I was eternally grateful.

"So how have you been, Rob?" I asked him.

"I've been good. I got married in 1992 and we had a daughter in 1994," he told me, "She's in the Peace Corps now."

"And you're still teaching?" I guessed.

"I am. And I've had your niece in my class for two years now. She reminds me a lot of you," he told me, then he pulled something out of his pocket, "I was actually going to give this to your sister, but since you're here…" he handed me a wad of yellowed papers.

I unrolled the paper, knowing instantly what it was: my test scores.

100% I couldn't believe it.

"You did it," he smiled sadly at me.

"Yeah, too bad I didn't get to enjoy it while I was alive," I sighed, "I couldn't have done it without you," I smiled at him.

"Oh," he smiled, "one more thing."

He grabbed something out of his back pocket.

Then he placed my old Walkman on the table and I nearly laughed out loud.

"I wondered where that went," I smiled at him, turning it over in my hands.

"Yeah, you left it in my car after our weekend at the lake," he replied albeit a bit sheepishly.

My sister's eyes widened and she gave me a look. I smirked at her in response.

I sat there, looking at my little sister—who's all grown up—and my ex-boyfriend—who's all grown old—and I realized that I couldn't get much happier. This is how I had always wanted it to be before I died.

But that's not how things worked out. Rob had moved on, got married, and had a daughter and Pammie did too. They both turned out pretty well; and they both seemed pretty happy.

My work here is done.

Suddenly a bright light shone to my left and I heard my mother's voice calling to me.

"I have to go," I told them.

"Oh, well you should come spend the weekend with us," Pammie suggested.

"No, I mean I have to _go _go_,_" I insisted. Her face fell and Rob nodded sadly in understanding.

"No," she shook her head, "I lost you once, I can't lose you again!"

"At least this time, I get to say goodbye," I reminded her, "All I ever wanted for you was for you to be happy and look at you. You're all grown up, you have a husband who loves you, a great daughter, and a wonderful life," I hugged her, "Do me a favor, okay?"

"Anything," she said.

"Don't be so hard on Sam. I've actually met her a few times before today and I've noticed that she's a smart, brave and caring girl who would do anything for the people she loves—_just like you_," I emphasized to her, hoping she realized that her and her daughter weren't so different after all, "And don't be so hard on Danny either, I think she really likes that little twerp."

Pammie nodded solemnly, trying not to cry, "I love you, Amber."

"I love you too," I told her, giving her another hug.

"And Rob," I turned to him, "I'm glad you're happy too. Thank you for loving me and believing in me when no one else did. You were my first love and I'll never forget about you." I gave him a hug.

"I'll never forget you either," he stared into my eyes, "I love you, Amber."

"I love you too," I told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

'_Amber,' _I heard my mother's voice, as clearly as I had the day I died, '_It's time,'_ she said.

"Goodbye," I took a deep breath, ready to move on. For the first time in my life, I felt at peace. I stepped forward and was suddenly overwhelmed in light and peace and hope and love. And then I was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Sam POV-

When it got to be 4:30 in the afternoon my dad became really worried about my mom. It was unlike her to cut time so close to an event (which started at 5:00) and on top of that she hadn't answered any of his phone calls or text messages.

I continued to reassure him that she would be home soon, but internally I was worried out of my mind. I hoped that she was just enjoying catching up with her sister, but part of me feared that the evil, untrustworthy part of Ember-the part that had tried to take over the world-had taken over my mom.

Finally, she came back home at 5:30, which was much later than I had expected her to come home. I guess at some point Mr. Lancer must have shown up (I would have to ask my mom later what his connection to Ember was).

I knew my parents were already late to the banquet, but when I saw the tear stains down her face, I knew that she wouldn't be going at all.

"Sam!" she called my name the second she entered the house and closed the door behind her. I was expecting her to get mad at me for interfering with her life but when I came in the room she looked at me—her eyes full of sorrow—and suddenly embraced me while my dad looked at us in confusion.

"I love you, you know that right? I don't want you to ever think that because we argue that I don't love you," she told me, her eyes were full of more unshed tears. The statement itself took me by surprise and made me wonder what had gone on after I left.

"Of course," I replied, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"It was Amber she…she passed on," she told me.

"Oh, mom I'm so sorry," I said to her, honestly meaning it. Even I was a little upset by her passing and I barely knew her. I couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for my mom. She already saw her sister dead and buried once, and now to lose her again; it must have been unbearable.

"Who's Amber?" my dad asked, confused.

"She was my sister," my mom explained, which only seemed to confuse him more. I was sure she would explain everything to him later, but right now there was no way she would be able to do it without crying again. Thankfully, he didn't pry.

Then she turned back to me, "I want to thank you," she said.

"For what?" I questioned.

"For helping me to see her one last time," she brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "it helped me to get the closure I needed, to finally say goodbye. She showed me how truly blessed I am. And I am even more blessed to have you as a daughter. Amber was a lot like you; kind, smart and strong-willed. I wish you could have known her when she was alive."

"Me too," I smiled, wanting to cry myself. I wondered what my life might have been like, what my mothers life might have been like if Ember had lived and fulfilled all the plans she had for them.

My mom hugged me again.

And even though I couldn't see her, I knew that Ember was smiling down on us from wherever she was.

She finally got her happy ending.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

_It was, it was September,_

_Wind blows the dead leaves fall._

_To you I did surrender,_

_Two weeks you didn't call._

_Your life goes on without me, _

_my life, a losing game._

_But you should, you should not doubt me._

_You will remember my name._

_Oh Ember, you will remember._

_Ember, one thing remains._

_Oh Ember, so warm and tender._

_You will remember my name._

_Your heart your heart abandoned,_

_You're wrong, now bear the shame,_

_Like dead trees, in cold December,_

_Nothing but ashes, remain._

_Oh Ember, you will remember._

_Ember, one thing remains._

_Oh Ember, so warm and tender._

_You will remember my name._


End file.
